


The Job

by Walker_August



Category: Mission: Impossible, Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Assassination, F/M, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 19:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17065406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walker_August/pseuds/Walker_August
Summary: A short August Walker fic based on the prompt:“So my idea is about August being assigned to kill the reader ( I have no idea why though) and has he observes her, he slowly feel something for her. Unfortunately he has to kill her… ( or not I let you choose the end )”





	The Job

He knows her, he’s sure of it. It hadn’t occurred to him during the vague briefing but now as he watches the woman, his latest target, he thinks that he’s seen her face before. Maybe he’d bumped in to her on the streets of London last time he was here. That must be it. Somehow now watching her doesn’t feel right, in fact something about this whole assignment feels off to August, it isn’t clicking like it usually does. Normally it’s so easy to push aside emotion and just do the job but right now, that isn’t the case for him. Perhaps it’s because he’s spent so much time recently being John Lark, that he’s started to sympathise with the CIA’s most wanted – after all he is one of them now. Or perhaps it’s her, the mysterious woman who he’s suddenly so fascinated with.

She’s in a hotel room, working at a furious pace on something on her laptop. She looks exhausted but barely stops, almost as if she can’t. August is watching from a building across the street, the rifle already set up – it’s a quick enough job, he should be home in no time. It’s not his usual method, with a gun, but he’s never missed a target yet and the idea of anything else seems…shameful, unjust. She doesn’t deserve his brutality, he’s certain of that if nothing else. She doesn’t deserve to die, whoever she is. Why does he feel so sure of that, why does he feel so drawn to her? And why does she have to die right here and now, when she hardly seems a threat?

You don’t question the CIA, you can’t. They have a target, they send the best person for the job. Very often, that person is August. He’s earned himself a reputation and the title of Director Sloane’s number one assassin but even so he can’t refuse the agency, can’t risk suspicion when he’s this deep in with the Apostles. So he does as he’s told and goes on their jobs, feigning loyalty. He does the deed and buries it somewhere deep in his mind. That’s how it works. And that’s how this one should work, once he gets in to the mindset he should’ve been in ages ago.

He’s been watching her for a few hours now, learning about her. That’s a mistake August should know better than to make, but she’s so oddly captivating. Occasionally she gets up and paces the small room, muttering to herself. At the desk she’ll sometimes stop typing, cocking her head to the side and chewing on the end of a pen as she thinks. She doesn’t drink enough water, and she hasn’t eaten in hours. He knows from the brief that she’s highly intelligent, and shares at least some of the beliefs he does. She has an aura of confidence to her too. Ambition. She’s determined and he’d bet anything she’s stubborn, just like him. And she’s beautiful in a way he hasn’t seen before. He feels an odd kinship to her, a connection.

What if he didn’t shoot, he wonders even as he starts to line up the gun. He’s on a solo mission, off comms until he needs to check in with the clean up team. He could go over the road, to the hotel. To her. He let’s himself imagine knocking on her door, explaining who he is – really is – and offering her to join the Apostles. She could even be the cure for the aching loneliness that comes with his double life, a partner in anarchy. He let’s himself think about it for a while longer than he should, so strangely comforted by the fantasy projected on to this practical stranger.

The thing is, he needs the CIA privileges too much to botch a job this easy. He needs access to Lane, and to intel too. August can’t make mistakes, not now. Still, he hesitates for a moment with his finger on the trigger. She’s looking out the window and he feels almost like she’s staring straight at him, to his soul. He wishes he could know this woman, get to know her, even if he still isn’t sure why. He sighs and shakes the thoughts from his head, making sure his aim is right as he does. He allows himself five more seconds to gain composure, counting down in his head, before pulling the trigger, and that’s it. His mystery woman now just another body, another name struck off of a list. A face to be forgotten, even though he’s not sure if he can this time. Not sure how he can. Another job done.


End file.
